


Tubbo, sobbing: Ranboo Took My Heart In The Divorce!!1!

by worddumb



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (deep breath) okay now the one that lands it in questionable category, Fluff, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Light Angst, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Moving Out, Now that's it, Okay Now To The Actual Tags Dear God Please No, Schizophrenic Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Tommy is less mentioned and more jumps into the story at one point, Tubbo Cries, all the research i did for this i did a while ago by watchning a few videos, based on online personas, i gues???, i guess?????, oh no wait, oh right!, only to jump out of it at the next, platonic use of the word 'love', service dog steve, sooo, thaaaaaat's it for the tags i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worddumb/pseuds/worddumb
Summary: Tommy, confused: But didn't you say yourself you weren't even dating?
Comments: 18
Kudos: 46





	Tubbo, sobbing: Ranboo Took My Heart In The Divorce!!1!

“So what did you want to talk about?” 

Ranboo gulps. This had seemed like such a good if terrifying idea just a few minutes ago, scratch that, it  _ is _ a good idea, but sitting opposite Tubbo, who’s got elbows on the table holding his head up on his fingers, it absolutely does not feel like one. And this reaction of his was probably sought after as well; Tubbo’s just, been like that, in the past few days. 

He’s been like that, and that’s why Ranboo should stop worrying and get it over with. It must be what Tubbo wants, with his incessant questions, constant provocations and his never ending stream of suggestions Ranboo move out whenever something unfortunate happens. It must be. With a deep breath, Ranboo stops his fidgeting: “I just wanted to ask, if I could move out maybe?”- oh no, oh no no no, that is not how he meant to phrase it. The room around him starts to darken despite the sunny day like in some kind of cheap horror movie. He tries to blink it away. 

“Why’re you askin’ me this, you are a free person! I do not control you,”- for the first time since Ranboo has asked to talk, Tubbo’s smile falters. Quieter and hunched, he repeats “I do not control you” under his breath before brightening right back up: “You’re free here. Did’ju pick out where you wanna live, already?” 

“Uhh, Techno had offered I stay at his and Phil’s place, and I don’t exactly have any better options so-”- Ranboo can’t help a numb, dry giggle- “-so that’s where,”- his elbows are on the table too, now, the fidgeting back on and unstoppable. Clapping his hands together in a vain effort to make it stop, he takes the tea Tubbo has made for them, downs the entire thing and goes to balance the cup on his pointer finger. 

Ah, yes. The weight of both the cup and the responsibility to not drop it pushes on Ranboo like a weighted blanket, down into a reflexive patch of his soul. He relaxes. 

“Cool, cool. D’you want my help packin’ up your things? Cause like, I can provide,”- wow, Tubbo’s taking this a lot better than expected. Not daring to hope this day won’t end in tears, Ranboo goes to set the cup down, an unsure smile already tugging at his lips: “Yes, that would be great-”- “Yeah, no problem, let's go get started then!”- or maybe it would, Tubbo rigid and all too fast to jump up from his seat, having not taken one sip of his honey tea. 

A TommyInnit springs up like a whack a mole in the open window: “Wait-”- “Jesus Christ!”- “-he’s breaking up with you and you’re helping him move out?! What the shit, if it were me I would be dead already!!” 

Ouch. Ranboo rubs at his ears, trying to process what was just yelled at him. Meanwhile Tubbo, serious and unbothered, turns to the window: “We weren’t even datin’, jeez. Also, no you wouldn’t, I may be a psychopath but I’m not  _ that _ psychopath.” 

“Yes you are, you stole my music player yesterday! Only a psychopath psychopath would do that,”- trailing off by the end, Tommy crosses his arms, all in all like a deflating pufferfish. 

“No I didn’t! I’m sure it was like, Dream or someone, they’ve all been rather annoyed with you lately and stuff,”- walked up to the window, Tubbo leans on the frame, keeping up that serial killer grade eye contact of his. Ranboo shudders just remembering those bright eyes focused on his very soul, Tommy looking reluctant, away under them, as was no doubt expected; really, the whole commune lives in fear of Tubbo’s stare. Grown men quake in his wake, flowers wilt under his gaze, he is Tubbo, destroyer of worlds- Ranboo smiles to himself. 

Regardless of him, the conversation’s been going, Tommy muttering something about green bitches and Tubbo promising to help him look for the player, the Tubbo behind Ranboo’s eyes growing to a godzilla sized monster and wreaking havoc on some random houses with his laser eyes. A lovely mental image, if you ask Ranboo. 

“Hey, man, what chu you starin’ at?”- Tubbo waves a hand, not ripping away from the windowsill. It appears as though Tommy has left, remarkable quiet setting on their mutual house; well, Tommy and Tubbo’s house now, if all goes to plan. 

“Nothing! Nothing at all, now uh shall we?..”- is it kinda stupid Ranboo can’t even ask for Tubbo’s help moving even after he was offered? Yes, yes it is. Is he still gonna prance around the request like he’s trying to win at Dance Dance revolution? Also yes. Tubbo seems to understand either way, deflating much like Tommy did before: “Yes, Ran-boo,”- the way he says it is so pitiful Ranboo almost wants to hug him, or do  _ something  _ comforting. Know he any less about how performative everyone around this commune is, he might’ve actually felt bad. 

Well, he still kind of does, both sadness and preemptive nostalgia battling for dominance with guilt and fear of abandonment, but it’s easier to ignore when he assumes Tubbo only feels a fraction as bad as his behaviour would suggest. 

They’re still gonna live  _ in the same commune _ , not close exactly but within walking distance, so there’s really no reason to be sad. Really. None at all. 

“Okay, okay great, let’s, let’s uh go,”- great, he’s stuttering now. Why. 

“Mm!”- Tubbo livens right back up, strutting from the window and up to the second floor, to Ranboo’s room- “Follow me, follow me. I’m gonna help you so well you will love me fo-eva,”- by the last sentence, he grows conspiratorial, hunching into himself with his fists in front of his chest in pure determination before straightening and running up to the middle of the spiral staircase, looking back at Ranboo: “C’mon, follow me!” 

At least he doesn’t look like he’s gonna cry at any given moment now. 

Plus, it’s maybe nice to know someone wants you to love them forever, if stressful as all hell. 

Anyway, what’s up with Tubbo these last few days? If he wants to be loved forever, why was he acting like a dick? 

He’s waiting for Ranboo to follow him, so right now is maybe not the best time to think about that. Shaking off like a wet dog, Ranboo runs up to the staircase, waiting for Tubbo to start walking again to climb it and fidgeting like mad  _ again _ , drumming his fingers on the railing and tap-tap-tapping his foot, not talking about his irregular head movements. He’d heard it was called ‘stimming’. He himself would call it frustrating because it’s exceedingly hard to stop. Even if it feels nice. 

‘Stimming’ or not, Tubbo and him wind up in his room, throwing things on the floor and laughing as Tubbo gets stuck in Ranboo’s big moving backpack which he bet he could fit in. So, with only one incident, getting ready for moving goes a whole lot better than Ranboo thought it would. 

**. . . . . . . .**

“Aand we’re done!”- arms akimbo, Tubbo puffs up his chest looking over the three boxes and one backpack Ranboo had somehow managed to accumulate in just a few months living at a new place. His face is more a grimace than anything, attempting a smile but coming out with an unimpressed, bracing stretch; he breathes a done huff. “What next, big man?” 

“Uh, I take all this and go to Techno’s? I think?”- pushing the tips of his fingers together, Ranboo looks away and down. He’s tapping his toes against the ground. His jaw hurts with how clenched it is. Is he really this anxious? 

“Sounds like a plan! Need any help with that?”- it would be nice, but he’d hate to impose. “I mean, the boxes aren’t that big, so probably not,”- remembering too late, he tags on- “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothin’, it’s nothin’,”- Tubbo’s words are spaced out, like ash floating down on the room. In a bound of fullness, Ranboo too puffs up, trying to take a breath that won’t fit over all the emotion: “No really-”- another attempt at a breath- “-thank you. I-I know this is hard for you, it is for me so, but- but you’re still helping even though I didn’t even ask- I m-mean, you’re a really cool friend, Tub.” 

Beginnings of a sob sounds through the room. 

“You called me Tub,”- now full on waling, Tubbo jumps at him, almost making him fall, and hugs him, hiding in his chest. Wait- what does he do-? Unlocking his muscles, Ranboo puts one hand on Tubbo’s head. It seems to either work or not work, Tubbo exploding into more wails and clenching at the back of his suit so hard it might just tear. Uuuuuuuh- 

“Fank you!”- a sob- “You’re also-”- a hiccup- “-you’re also a really cool friend, I’m sorry-”- more wailing. Ranboo pats the head pushing further into his embrace. This time, it surely works, Tubbo’s sobs subsiding: “Fank you.” He’s quieter. Ranboo pats some more, now smoothing down the hair. God this is awkward. 

The deathgrip on his suit loosens, Tubbo drawing away. His face is neither very red nor very wet, only its pale splotches and the disgruntled, pained expression signifying his breakdown: “I’m sorry I can’t help you with movin’-movin’, I just really don’t want you to leave. Fank you for not takin’ me up on that offer, really. I’m just gonna-”- his hands leave Ranboo’s body for good- “-I’m just gonna go help Tommy with his music player, see ya later,”- some of his signature cheer comes back in the last few words, though it’s dry and fake to the core. Well. Time to start moving-moving, in the face of Ranboo’s now vacant room and the question of why, for the love of god, was Tubbo so damn annoying in the past few days then. 

**. . . . . . . .**

It doesn't turn out to be that hard, all three boxes easy to stack and door handles easy to press with his foot. It’s almost fun, actually. He gets to play a game of balance with the boxes, and everyone he meets on the way is friendly. Really, a lot of fun. 

**. . . . . . . .**

“Uuuh bad day?” 

Techno looks back at his face from where he was staring above him, Steve standing calm under his hand, glasses on top of his head, giant eyebags on his face and hot chocolate in his other hand: “You could say that, yes.” 

“Um, are you still good to show me around or should we wait for Phil?” 

Having come back to looking above Ranboo’s head, Techno takes a deep breath before looking back down: “Naah, I’m good,”- gesturing far too tall and going over Ranboo’s head with his mug, he bumps it against the doorframe twice: “This is the doorway-”- gestures behind himself- “-and that is inside, where you should totally come. There’s nothing dangerous there-”- he even raises his eyebrows, to appear as unbelievably believable as possible. Ranboo bites his lip. 

“Chat again?” 

“Worse.” 

“Oh,”- Ranboo lets out a nervous giggle- “Does it want you to kill people like usual or..?” Techno stares at him. Takes a small, quiet sip of his chocolate. 

“Right, sorry, I didn’t mean-”- “It wants me to eat people, nowadays.” 

“Oh. Cool,”- wow, he’s really good at conversation. 

Despite his fuck ups, Techno’s nonchalant, taking another, more real sip. He’s still glancing above Ranboo, though he does make a pointed effort to look anywhere but as he steps away, guiding Steve behind himself: “Anyhow, please do come in, I uuh, have some more chocolate milk if you want it.” 

“Thanks, I’d love some,”- and he would, the moving process draining and the smell of Techno’s drink maddening- “Um, may I ask an invasive question?” 

Just as he’s about to start apologizing, Techno shifts to look at him, or rather, past him: “Yeah, sure, go ahead. It’s not like I’m human or anythin’.” 

“Sooo uh, I may not?”- once again nervous and giggling, shit, Ranboo’s really fucked this up hadn’t he? 

“Nah, you may, you may. I just don’t wanna be held responsible for any bodily trauma that results, you know?” 

“Right-”- so Techno was just messing with him, thank god- “-uh, why’s the day bad?” 

“Uhh, forgot my meds-”- swirling the hot chocolate in his cup like an expensive wine, Techno throws back a big sip- “-ADHD and schizophrenia really don’t go together well,”- another shot-sip, looking into his cup- “Aw dang, now I gotta make more. Well I guess I had to make some for you-”- he sets the cup on the kitchen counter which they had somehow reached while talking- “-so it’s not that bad, but still. Why have they invented iPhone but not bottomless cup? That would be such a better use of innovation under capitalism,”- as though expecting a response, he looks to Ranboo. 

“Uhhh, because capitalism is a scam?” 

His answer seems to satisfy Techno, getting an approving nod: “Ah yes, exactly. How could I forget. Now, Where Are my glasses-”- one hand absently rubbing at Steve’s nape, Techno starts looking around, leaning away from the counter- “-no, no they can’t be in the freezer Chat, or in that flowerpot, I might be an airhead u-wu but I’m not that much of an airhead and no, I won’t say your name-”- unsure if he should interrupt before, Ranboo knows now as Techno doesn’t seem to be having fun: “They’re uh, they’re on top your head.” 

Techno touches his pate almost automatically at Ranboo’s words. Straightens from where he’d started hunching. Gives a full body shudder, stomping his feet a bit and grabbing onto Steve’s furr for a second: “Well, shi- I mean, see, Chat?  _ That  _ is bein’ helpful. You lot are just loud.” 

Pulling the glasses down onto his face, he turns to Ranboo: “Thanks, appreciated,”- he sounds awkward. They look at each other for a few beats. 

“So-”- “Actually nevermind-”- another few beats. Techno doesn’t say a thing, simply taking his glasses off, putting them on the counter next to his mug and pointing at them with an exceedingly serious expression. 

“Cghm- so-”- changing his course last second, Ranboo coughs again- “-so, would you like me to make the chocolate? I’m gonna have to learn to orient around this kitchen anyways so…” 

“Ah, but of course. You were moderately nice to me every time we talked  _ and  _ you gifted me an axe, I trust you with my kitchen as I would with my life,”- with that, Techno sets down on the floor next to Steve, hugging the dog- well, he’d call him a bear, and to be fair, Steve is rather large- and looking to Ranboo- “Mind doing it on your own? It’s easy, milk’s in the fridge and the cocoa powder is in the next to last left top cabinet, you’ll figure it out.” 

Feeling a bit like a video game character on a quest, Ranboo nods: “Yeah, sure, I will. Uhh, do I throw the powder in before or after I microwave the milk?” 

Techno doesn’t rip away from Steve to answer: “After, I think.” Then, he hides deeper in Steve’s furr, looking about as ready to talk as a prickly fence. Okay, then. With a bit more deliberation, Ranboo takes a deep breath and gets to work. 

**Author's Note:**

> So you might be wondering why the fuck Techno is happy he was gifted an axe in this universe, and here is your answer: it was a paper mache axe, and he collects stuff like that cause he thinks it's funny.  
> Uhh, if you read this work, mind leaving a comment? A kudo? A love? Please? Pretty please? I swear I don't bite (well, I do, I was *that* person in your class, but I swear I left my wicked ways behind) (also if you have anxiety about appearing weird/unoriginal or just don't know what to comment, you are valid and I love you. can you please comment now that you've been perceived-)


End file.
